


The Path Home

by Kedreeva



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Magic, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 02:04:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kedreeva/pseuds/Kedreeva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles splayed a hand over one of the runes, the one over his heart, it flared with pale blue light. He pulled his hand away as if picking up an object and the light of the rune came with it. The set of runes peeled from his skin in a tapestry of light and he raised it into the air above his head.</p><p>Wherein Stiles and Lydia perform magic for Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Path Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [homoeroticismforthewin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/homoeroticismforthewin/gifts).



> This is a commission for Homoeroticismforthewin on Tumblr, as a part of the Sterek Campaign's Wolf Pack Charity Project fanfiction auction. Thank you for helping us protect some wolves!

* * *

            Stiles sat on the edge of the soft couch, one leg tucked under him at the ankle, Lydia's hand in his in his lap. The room was dim around them, the world on the edge of twilight outside the window. One long finger almost absently traced a pattern over Lydia's skin, on the back of her hand. She was curled beside him, head on his shoulder, knees pulled up so her feet were on the couch as well. Where he stared blankly into space, she had her eyes closed, just barely.

            The click of the front door broke the silence and Stiles' finger hesitated. The soft blue glow from the rune on Lydia's hand brightened and then faded, invisible once more. She opened her eyes, picked up her head in time to see Isaac round the corner, a small jar in his hand. He took in the sight of the two of them, of Stiles' slight smile, and then held up his prize.

            "I'd almost forgotten where it was," he said quietly as Lydia unfolded her legs slowly, withdrew her hand from Stiles'.

            "Where are the others?" Lydia asked, voice chiming sweetly into the quiet.

            "Boyd called about ten minutes ago to say he and Erica picked up the herbs you wanted. Scott and Allison are on their way with the amber," Isaac answered.

            "Derek?" Stiles asked.

            Isaac sort of shrugged, because he didn't know where Derek was, because Derek wasn't answering his phone. Because he wasn't sure Derek was even going to show up for this, even though he knew what they were trying to do, even though he had the key to all of it. If he was late, if he didn't turn up, they would probably end up watching a movie and going to bed; except for Stiles, who would stay up to wait for him, who would chastise him gently for missing the opportunity.

            Lydia clambered to her feet, stretched with her arms above her head. She smiled. "Well, we spent the afternoon making the incense. We should get this set up so it's ready when everyone else gets here."

            The small jar of dirt exchanged hands as Stiles got to his feet as well. He led them through the house, down the eerie stairs into the catacombs beneath the redone Hale manor. When he reached the final door he drew it open, held it for both Lydia and Isaac before ducking in to grab the door stop. The others would find them when they arrived and know they were not interrupting.

            Lydia hit the lights as she passed the switch, illuminating the strange setup within the room. There were five chairs, one at each point of the white chalk star connecting them on the floor. Beneath the chairs were transcribed runes, in more chalk, in blue chalk. There was a large piece of white willow bark in the center of the circle drawn over the heart of the star, more runes scribed under it. Isaac paused at the edge of the circle, eyes locking on the little metal tripods spaced evenly between the chairs and the obviously handmade cones of incense resting atop them.

            "Sit over there," Stiles directed Isaac, pointing to a folding chair along the wall. Isaac moved wordlessly to obey, sitting on his hands to keep from doing anything he shouldn't.

            Crossing the room to the center, Stiles knelt by the bark and pulled the stopper from the jar Isaac had brought. He raised it for inspection, tilted it to look inside. It was rich, black dirt, would have been good for growing things if he hadn't known where it was from. He was glad that Isaac worked at the graveyard; it would have been strange to send one of the others to fetch the dirt. He upended the container onto the bark, like it was a plate, then began spreading the dirt evenly over the bottom so there was a flat plane. He traced a little rune into the dirt, and the pattern flared red for a moment before fading.

            When he was finished, he nodded to Lydia and she plucked a small box of matches from the only shelf in the room. She briskly lit one and then tossed the box at Stiles, who caught it deftly as she began to light the incense. He crossed the room and started on the other side. They moved clockwise until all the cones were smoking softly, releasing a citrus scent into the air.

            "What is that?" Isaac asked softly.

            "Copal," Lydia said absently, extinguishing her last match. "Cleansing the area first so nothing we do gets mixed up with anything else we've done." She smiled and then nodded to Stiles. "Wouldn't want him to get hurt."

            "Very funny," Stiles said, like it was an inside joke, like he knew she wasn't afraid of hurting him. He didn't mention the scars, because they'd still been learning. They were more careful now.

            She made a cute face and then motioned to Isaac, who had turned his attention toward the door. The humans knew he could hear the others, or at least some of them. Sure enough, a moment later Erica and Boyd slipped around the edge of the door, their hands full of small bags of dried herbs. They paused at the threshold until Stiles motioned them in. They unloaded their stash to Stiles and Lydia both, and then took seats where they were directed.

            "Oh, good," Lydia exclaimed as she sorted the baggies in her hands. "We don't need this one tonight, but they've been out of it for ages." She pulled one of the bags, full of light blue flower petals, and set it upon the shelf at the back.

            Stiles watched her for a moment before turning back to the two bags in his hands. He seemed to be debating what to do and then selected one and tossed the other to her. "Bring the mortar," he said as he moved back to the bark plate.

            Reaching up, she grabbed the white mortar and pestle from the shelf, as well as a bottle of water from beside it, and crossed to his side with both. Together they sat on the floor, ground what was in his bag into a paste with the water until they had enough. She closed her eyes as he dipped his thumb into the paste, drew a rune on her forehead. Then he rose, repeated the action for the three betas.

            "What's that?" Scott asked, from the doorway. Lydia started, but Stiles just smiled because he had seen the way the betas twitched, cocking their heads slightly to the sound of Scott and Allison's arrival.

            "Echinacea," Stiles said, turning to face them. "It adds power. We'll be drawing on yours later. Have a seat."

            Scott took the seat closest to the door and Allison passed Stiles a handful of amber stones before taking the next seat over from Scott's. Stiles repeated the rune on both of their foreheads. Allison wrinkled her nose. "That smells awful."

            Stiles rolled his eyes. "Wait 'til we start," he told her. Then he moved to the doorway, glanced down the hall as if expecting more company. The hallway remained empty, however, and he let out a heavy sigh, turning back to the gathered. Lydia gave him a sympathetic look.

            "We still have a few hours before we _have_ to start," she reminded him gently.

            "I know," Stiles said, taking a deep breath. Then he seemed to pull himself together, and looked over the group. "Okay, guys. We may as well go over this before we start."

            He moved back to the center of the room, exchanged bags with Lydia until he was holding the two he wanted. She moved to shelve the rest as he addressed the others. "We're not sure how well this is going to work, since we can't test any of this beforehand. This is the only shot we have until next year. So whatever we do, whatever happens, don't move. Don't get up, don't make any gestures, don't do anything but sit back in your chair and let us work. Is that clear? Anyone have to use the bathroom?"

            Everyone nodded and Scott shook his head like he couldn't decide if he was supposed to nod to the first question or shake his head to the second. "What if it's going wrong?" Allison asked.

            "If it's going wrong, don't move," Stiles told her. "There's... a flow, okay? Like, a river, and you guys are forming the channel. If you move, we'll lose access to the river, which means we won't be able to draw power from you, maybe from any of you, and that won't help."

            Allison nodded her assent and sat back again. Boyd raised his hand a little and Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yes?"

            "The amber?"

            Stiles started, then looked down at his hands. "Oh, right," he said, and Lydia held out her hands to take the amber pieces Allison had delivered. She passed out one to each of them. "Just, hang on to it throughout the spell."

            "For protection," Scott clarified, happy that he knew that much. Allison had tried to explain it to him on the ride over, but she wasn't very clear on the details either.

            "For protection," Stiles agreed with a little nod. "That's all we need from you guys."

            All five seemed to agree, and so Stiles nodded to Lydia, who fetched a piece of white chalk from the shelf. "Now stay put, we're going to lay in some of the runes to bind you to the circle. No moving until we break them. Last chance for the bathroom!" she quipped cheerfully. No one moved, and so she shrugged and looked to Stiles. "After you."

            Stiles nodded, dropping the bags of herbs beside the bark plate. Then he stripped out of his shirt in one fluid motion, bundled it up and tossed it outside of the room. They all watched with fascination as he began tracing fingers over his skin, speaking softly. Runes began to light under his touches, connecting on his skin. It was rare for them to see this in action while they had time to watch; most of the time they were distracted, busy with their own fights.

            When Stiles splayed a hand over one of the runes, the one over his heart, it flared with pale blue light. He pulled his hand away as if picking up an object and the light of the rune came with it. The set of runes peeled from his skin in a tapestry of light and he raised it into the air above his head. Lifting his other hand, he splayed both hands over the net of runes and then spread his hands slowly apart, murmuring softly. The runes duplicated like a tessellation, fitting into one another, repeating and spreading until they formed a dome over the group, until they touched the floor all around them.

            Then they faded, the light winking out and leaving the group blinking to clear the haze of glow-spots in their eyes. Stiles' shoulders slumped, his eyes closing as he took a moment to just breathe and recover. Then he looked to Lydia, who stepped into the circle with him, across the plate from him. He extended his hands, palms up to her, and met her eyes.

            "Algiz and Ansuz?" she asked, chalk at the ready.

            Stiles nodded confirmation, and held up first his right, then his left hand. Lydia swallowed and took each of his hands in turn, tracing a rune on each palm in the special chalk. Unlike the runes Stiles had been drawing, these ones stayed, painted pale on his skin.

            The creak of a door cracked through the silence like a gunshot and everyone turned to watch the doorway. A moment later Derek appeared, peeking hesitantly around the doorframe. For a heartbeat Stiles thought that he would flee, but then he moved fully into sight and pulled one hand from his jacket pocket. When he opened his hand, a small golden pendant lay coiled in his palm. The letters LH were etched into the surface.

            "I'm glad you're here," Stiles said softly, meeting Derek's guilty gaze.

            "You'd have kicked my ass tomorrow if I didn't show," Derek told him, as if that were the only reason, as if he couldn't have beaten Stiles.

            Lydia reached over, plucked the pendant from his palm and looked to Stiles. "You'd better take a seat, then," she said to him, motioning to the bark plate with the graveyard dirt. "Derek, you're there," she said, pointing at a small circle on the edge of the larger circle.

            Stiles gave Derek a smile before turning and lifting the bark plate, settling it in his lap as he sat cross-legged on the floor at the center of the room. The pack all straightened, preparing themselves to sit tight for as long as was needed. Derek removed his jacket, dropping it beside Stiles' shirt outside the door, and took his own seat inside the little chalk circle Lydia had indicated. Stiles and Lydia both double checked that everyone was in position, and then Lydia knelt between Stiles and Derek, her front to Stiles.

            Extending one arm, Lydia traced a pair of runes on her forearm. Both lit up black in the wake of her fingers, lifting off her skin as Stiles' had done a few moments earlier. She twisted them in the air and they split into two identical sets, which she laid over Stiles' wrists. They clung to him and upon a murmured word from her, flashed into dozens and dozens of duplicates, covering all of him. Stiles winced, then went rigid when they faded.

            "What was that?" Derek asked worriedly.

            Lydia didn't look back at him. "Binding," she told him. "It's temporary, but if this works, it'll keep her from breaking the spell by moving. Just until we can tell her not to."

            Derek frowned, because he didn't like the thought of Stiles being unable to defend himself if something happened. He stayed where he was though, and let her continue.

            Lifting the first of the two bags, she drew out a pinch of the herb inside. She set down the bag and lifted the pendant from where she'd set it on the ground beside her. Carefully, she laid it in the center of the graveyard dirt and then circled it with the herb, murmuring softly. She etched a rune on her palm, drawing it off and placing it over the pendant. She repeated the motion with the second herb, in a larger circle, with a different rune.

            "Ok," she said softly. "No one speaks, from now on, until Stiles does. At all."

            She took their silence as agreement, and pulled a small blade from her pocket. It was clean and sharp, had never been used for anything before. She met Stiles' gaze and he couldn't nod, but he looked resolved. He looked _prepared_ anyway, and so she leaned forward, drew the blade over the skin of his sternum. She didn't dig in; it was just enough to cause droplets of blood to well up in the wake of the blade, not enough to cause them to run. That had taken a lot of practice to learn.

            Then she sat back, not even daring to breathe as she waited. As they all waited, eyes riveted on Stiles' rigid form.

            Just when Lydia was ready to call it quits, Stiles' head jerked up as if someone had yanked on his hair, his eyes going wide. He made a strangled noise and Lydia hummed a threatening note when she heard Derek shift behind her. She couldn't yell at him to sit down, but he got the message.

            When Stiles next blinked, his eyes changed from amber-brown to bright, pale blue, and then to deep brown. He dropped his chin, fixed Derek with a confused stare, brown knit. "Derek?"

            His voice caught on the lump in his throat until he cleared it, tried again. "Laura?" he answered. It just felt so good to say her name again, to hear her voice.

            "Who are all these people, Derek?" Laura asked, and it was weird to hear her voice coming from Stiles' body. "Why are they in our basement? Why can't I move?"

            Derek covered his mouth with one hand, breath stuck in his chest as he tried to grasp at what to tell her, what to say. He hadn't really expected it would _work_. "They- they helped me contact you," Derek said. "Don't try to move, okay? Do you remember what happened?"

            She looked confused for a moment. "I remember the hospital called me. A nurse said Uncle Peter had disappeared. I followed his scent into the woods, and... I don't know. I don't... remember. What's going on?"

            Eyes closing, Derek pulled himself together. "You died, Laura," he told her, hating to have to be the one to break it to her. "You've been dead almost two years."

           She looked down, seemed to realize she was definitely not in her own body, and drew a few conclusions of her own. "Oh my god, you brought me back? Derek what were you thinking? Do you have any idea what could have gone wrong?"

            "We didn't bring you back," Lydia said, because there was no way Derek was going to say it. Because the only thing worse than being brought back is believing you have been brought back only to find out it's not true. "If you promise not to move from where you are, I can unbind you."

            Laura nodded and Lydia drew the same runes as before, in reverse, on Stiles' skin. They lit up white, peeled away from his skin and absorbed into her palms as she leaned back. Laura rubbed at Stiles' wrists as if they were her own, as if they hurt, staring at Lydia as she tried to figure out what was going on, exactly.

            "You're a runeshaper," she said finally, slowly. Lydia nodded. "And... this boy. He's one too." Again Lydia nodded, and Laura looked past her to Derek. "So you hired two runeshapers so you could, what, say goodbye?"

            Derek rolled his eyes, wiped at one with the heel of his hand as though irritated. "I didn't hire them," he told her. The he paused, because how to explain the humans to Laura? How could he contain the past two years of his life in something so small as a sentence? "This is Lydia, the mate of one of my betas. And you're... sharing space with Stiles."

            "Another human," she surmised, flexing her fingers as if she expected to grow claws. She seemed satisfied to be correct when nothing happened.

            "My human," Derek told her, meeting her gaze.

            "Oh," she said quietly. Her head raised slightly as she realized what he was telling her. " _Oh_. Well that's awkward, little brother."

            Derek only shrugged, because they hadn't had better options, because Stiles had volunteered. Because Lydia didn't have all the clear-inked tattoos Stiles did, the ones that would have enabled her to stay safe through playing host. "They volunteered," he said softly.

            "Must be important," she surmised, tilting her head just slightly. It was really strange to see Laura's expression on Stiles' features. "Is something the matter? Is your pack in danger?"

            "No, nothing like that," Derek assured her.

            "Did you find the deed to the property?" she asked urgently. "My will? They were in the same place, you should have known where the key was."

            "Yeah, I- I found it," Derek confirmed. "It's not that."

            "Well?" she prompted, looking concerned.

           Derek dropped his gaze and even in the dim light she could see the blush that flushed up his neck, turning his ears red. "I just... I wanted- I needed to say goodbye. I should have been there for you, Laura. I should have been able to protect you."

            Her shoulders dropped at those words, lips twitching in a sympathetic smile. "You know that's not true," she told him softly. "If anything, I left you. We all left you."

            He swallowed thickly, straightened his shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "It was my fault." Everyone in the room rolled their eyes, because every one of them had had this conversation with Derek before and none of them had been able to change his mind. "I told a hunter about our family."

            Laura snorted. "Kate?" she asked him skeptically. At his surprised expression, she joined in the eye rolling extravaganza. "Really, Derek? That wouldn't have been a secret even if you were human. You were not subtle. Mom and Dad knew."

            "But-" Derek started.

            "No buts," Laura told him firmly. "You made some stupid decisions when you were a kid - like some really stupid decisions - but it wasn't your fault, okay? I was tracking her down, tracking all of them down, before I... you know." Her voice cracked over the last words. It was difficult to reconcile one's own death.

            Lydia growled a reprimand at Derek when he shifted, tried to move closer to Laura, and he sat back inside the circle once more. Gave her a grouchy frown before looking back to Stiles, to his sister. "Peter, he... he killed all of them. He killed Kate."

            Relief etched itself into Stiles' features as Laura closed his eyes. "So it's over," she said softly. "You can let it go."

            "I can't," Derek told her, but he cocked his head a little, gave her a pained expression. "Or, I couldn't. I just... I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you I'm sorry. That I love you. That I miss you. Every day, I miss you every day. I miss the pack."

            With a look of regret, Laura reached out one hand to her little brother. Derek extended his own and they were just close enough for their fingers to lace, not quite enough to hold hands. It was strange, how familiar Stiles' fingers were to him, yet how different the touch was coming from his sister.

            "You have your own pack now, little brother," she told him. "You can't take care of them like you should if you're worried about the people who're already gone. Okay? You gotta let go. I'll be ok."

            Derek nodded, unable to agree past the lump in his throat. He swallowed, jaw clenching, as he worked up the courage to say his next words. Fingers tightening in hers, clinging to her like a lifeline, he nodded again. "Goodbye, Laura. I love you."

            She smiled, gave his fingers a squeeze before releasing him. "I love you, puppy. Take care of them- they obviously love you too."

            Then Stiles' hand was dropping back to his side, and he slumped forward, caught by Lydia as Laura released herself from her host. The betas made noises of concern, but as they had promised, they stayed where they had been told. It was more difficult for Derek, but he managed to remain seated as Lydia traced a strengthening rune over Stiles' back until he lifted his head.

            "Oh my god," he said groggily. "My head is killing me. Did it work?"

            "It worked," Lydia assured him, helping him to sit up on his own.

            Stiles looked up at that, caught Derek's gaze, heart catching at the tears in the alpha werewolf's eyes. Derek smiled, but it was the sort that said he was being strong for others. The sort that said it hurt so badly he couldn't even respond yet.

            "You okay?" Stiles asked softly.

           "I'm great," Derek told him and it was so genuine that Stiles actually believed him despite how crushed Derek looked.

            Stiles nodded and Lydia took that as her cue to release the betas from their duty of sitting still. They moved quickly around the room, extinguishing the incense, folding the chairs, cleaning up around Stiles and Derek where they both knelt on the floor. Lydia removed the willow bark plate from Stiles' lap last, rested one hand on his head for a moment before ushering out the others.

           Sighing, Stiles clambered wearily to his feet. Derek was there in an instant, steadying him. "Are _you_ okay?" he asked.

            "I'm fine," Stiles said warmly, giving Derek a smile. He was exhausted, but he was unharmed. Their protective runes had held, no negative spirits had been summoned, and they had found Laura. He had given Derek the chance he so badly needed to say goodbye.

            Derek, as if sensing his thoughts, leaned over and pressed a kiss to Stiles' cheek. When Stiles looked at him, he smiled softly, this time much more sincerely. "Thank you," he told Stiles, gently, heartfelt.

            "You're welcome," Stiles responded, a smile lighting his face. "Come on. I think I need to sleep for the next twelve hours."

            With a chuckle, Derek walked from the room at his side, left his past behind them as he led Stiles up the stairs. As they emerged from the darkness of the basement and into the light, Derek felt as if a weight had lifted from his shoulders. He could hear the others settling in their rooms together, murmuring softly, and he could practically feel the love and trust of his pack.

            And for perhaps the first time since the fire, it all felt like _home_.


End file.
